The Sunflower Knows

sun·flow·er

The sunflower smiles, the sunflower knows.
Unashamed she sheds her clothes.

The sunflower smooth's the restless sky
and lovingly she warms the ground, on which you lie.

The sunflower knows, the sunflower’s wise.
She sees the doubts within your eyes
and so she takes her sunflower time.

Tells the moon to wait and the sun to linger.
Twists the world around her sunflower finger.
Lets you see the wonder of it all.

If you’ve learned your lesson well
there’s little more for her to tell.

One last caress, its time to dress, for fall.

My Sunflower bouquet sits happily on a wooden pedestal in my entryway. Displayed in a coffee press ~ Some flowers still fresh and ringed with halos of red and yellow flame-like petals ~ Others going to seed and beautifully beginning to droop. All searching to face the life-giving rays of the sun under a portrait of my Great-Grandfather Collier.

From young seedlings to stately stalks, Sunflowers continue to give. After all the petals & seeds have dropped, their beautiful, dark & handsome heads take a final bow.

 

It’s easy to see why people love them so much!

 Hope you caught my play with the lyrics of the classic tune ~ The Summer Knows. I hope you could hear Barbara Streisand singing as you read ~ I also hope you're looking forward to a really wonderful weekend.

Click my readers to read more about my favorite Sunflowers grown during the lazy days of summer.

Heirlooms

The rhythms of becoming an heirloom are rough for some & smooth for others. I thought of this when I picked these heirloom tomatoes at the farmer’s market. When I arrived home, I felt that they deserved a nice rest in the soft lap of my grandmother’s bowl.

We spent our last summer evening appreciating much ~ along with a few heirlooms. As I was sitting in the cool grass with Granny’s bowl in my lap I was reminded of the cycles of life, of the rightness of change, loss & rebirth.

For the first time, I used my Great Grandmother’s paring knife that my cousin Kris sent to me. In her note she said ~ Grandmother Collier peeled a ‘million’ peaches for preserves and for pickling with this paring knife. She always liked a very sharp knife. The best part though ~ the soft and comfortable handle.

Isn’t it amazing how memories can unfold? Thank you Kris ~ I love it & you too!

Hope you’re all having a great weekend!

The Thoroughbred Club of America

December ~ A time when we do our best around here to slow things down a bit all in the honor of friends, family, and traditions. Over the years we’ve come to know what we like best. What brings back the fond memories, what makes us the most comfortable, and what makes us the most grateful.

December is also a time to celebrate & shine. This year the Thoroughbred Club of America here in Lexington was ready to bring a fresh look to their treetops, tabletops, and time-honored traditions. I am honored that they asked me to bring that fresh look to their beautiful club for Christmas.

It was an absolute pleasure!

With my photographs & the sentimental prose of Edgar Albert Guest ~ I'm happy to share the results with you!  

 

"When Friends Drop In" 

It may be I'm old-fashioned, but the times I like the best

Are not the splendid parties with the women gaily dressed,

And the music tuned for dancing and the laughter of the throng,

With a paid comedian's antics or a hired musician's song,

But the quiet times of friendship, with the chuckles and the grin,

And the circle at the fireside when a few good friends drop in.

Though I sometimes like an opera, there's no music quite so sweet

As the singing of the neighbors that you're always glad to meet;

Oh, I know when they come calling that the fun will soon begin,

And I'm happiest those evenings when a few good friends drop in.

 

There's no pomp of preparation, there's no style or shame or fuss;

We are glad to welcome callers who are glad to be with us,

And we sit around and visit or we start a merry game,

And we show them by our manner that we're mighty pleased they came,

For there's something real about it, and the yarns we love to spin,

And the time flies, Oh, so swiftly when a few good friends drop in.

Let me live my life among them, cheerful, kindly folks and true,

And I'll ask no greater glory till my time of life is through;

Let me share the love and favor of the few who know me best,

And I'll spend my time contented till my sun sinks in the west;

 

I will take what fortune sends me and the little I may win,

And be happy on those evenings when a few good friends drop in.

Edgar Albert Guest

Many thanks to everyone at the Thoroughbred Club ~ I wish you all a very Merry Christmas & a joyous new year!

  Merry Christmas & thanks as well to

Joseph & Shannon Hillenmeyer for the fireside chats in the pouring rain, beautiful Christmas trees & heavenly greens!

Photo | Longshadow

A very special thank you to my assistant Taylor for making the hustle & bustle so much fun! 

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Thank you.

Hand Knit Sweaters

"I wonder if the snow loves the trees and fields,    

that it kisses them so gently?

And then it covers them up snug,

you know, with a white quilt;

and perhaps it says 'Go to sleep, darlings,

till the summer comes again.'"

                                             ~ Lewis Carroll

Sounds so poetic.

We recently received a fresh blanket of snow. A mere dusting compared to what many are dealing with, but still, cold is COLD.

My water wicking under armor & favorite fleece pull-over would be the call if I was going out in IT ~ but I'm not ~ so instead, I've chosen the warm hug of one of my favorite hand-knit sweaters.

Soft and warm, and made by hand with love.

I've noticed lately that there seems to be a sort of warm & snuggly knitting revival going on. The array of hand-knit clothing & accessories, all beautifully styled and photographed, and for sale, are being fuelled by a culture that seems to be needing to make-do-and-mend. I'm not referring to tight-knit groups of grannies ~

I'm referring to a growing army of men who are winding down with needles & yarn.

Seems that men have been clicking their knitting needles for centuries!  

Some time ago, about 200 A.D., fishermen who were frustrated by only being able to catch one fish at a time on a single line, started forming loops with yarn and devised fishing nets!

Enter the 16th century, man invented machines that mastered millions of stitches per minute.

During World Wars I and II, American schoolboys were taught to knit squares to be sewn into blankets for troops.

Best selling author, Andre Dubus III, says that knitting required me to focus and it allowed me to drift too, the way running a long-distance required my feet and legs to do one thing while my mind could do another.

They are a varied bunch who find it to be both meditative & restorative.  They are authors, doctors, musicians, artists, and even art gallery owners…

As a matter of fact, an art gallery owner, knit by hand the two beautiful sweaters that I've photographed for this post. Classic crew necks with deep ribbed edges ~ lovingly knit together using beautiful cranberry and oatmeal-colored yarns ~ by my Uncle, Charles Adams.

I'll let him tell you his story…

"I started when I lived in the west village. I took knitting lessons from a woman who had a yarn shop on Greenwich ave. it was 'diverse endeavors.' all I ever learned was a pattern for that raglan sleeve crew neck. she set me up with four sizes. I had the gallery on Bleecker and wanted something to do with my hands while I sat in the gallery. I ended up not knitting in the gallery but reading and knitting in front of the tv at night instead of snacking. the fastest I ever did a sweater was once at the cabin when I did one in a weekend. I knit them in four pieces. the front, then the back, then the two sleeves at the same time on the same needle, then I would piece them together and add the neck. I would never knit for kids. they grew too fast. I've probably knitted less than 30 sweaters. sometimes I think about taking it up again but I can't remember how to cast on. love chas" 

That was him ~ back in the '70s, knitting on the front porch of our family cabin near Santa Fe with his sweet boy Hugo. Also from the '70s, an interesting story about my first trip to NYC to visit Uncle Charles, When I Was A Young Girl.

My mother is still trying to get past it!

 Thanks again Uncle Charles for the warm hugs.